“Oh, baby, tell me you’re close.” He clutched her ass in his wide palms. “Love the way you take me. You squeeze me so tight, like you never want to let me go.”
Emma loved the exoticness of the act, the blind need in Brock’s eyes when he leant down to suck a hard nipple in his mouth. A quick scrape of his teeth had her breath catching.
“Brock!” she screamed as another wave of pleasure crashed through her. He moved from her breasts to her neck, nipping her skin then laving the small pain with his tongue.
She moaned beneath him, revelling in the sensation of his crisp chest hairs scraping against her bare flesh. His nips and licks drove her mad, made her desperate for anything he could give her.
“You liked that, didn’t you, baby? You like a little danger when you fuck.” She didn’t think it possible, but Brock picked up speed and depth until he became her whole world. Until she couldn’t remember a time when Brock’s cock hadn’t been fucking her with brutal pleasure.
He switched to her neglected breast. “Come with me, baby.”
Emma tossed her head. “Can’t, it’s too much.” Her body couldn’t come another time. It would destroy her, the pleasure breaking her apart into a million pieces.
“Yes, you can and you will,” he growled before setting his teeth into the sensitive flesh of her breast while two fingers swept down and pinched her clit hard. “I’ve waited too long for this, too long for you. Come for me, Emma, let me feel you explode around my dick.”
The pain on the edge of such overwhelming pleasure threw Emma into the hardest climax of her life. She heard her voice screaming from a distance, while her arms and legs clasped Brock’s still thrusting body tightly against her. Then she felt his yell of completion as her body climbed to the peak once more and shattered into a mindless sea of satisfaction.
Minutes, or hours, later, satisfaction continued to thrum through Emma’s body. Delightful little pulses zinged from her clit, making her vaginal muscles clamp down on Brock’s half-hard cock.
They lay replete, entwined in each other’s arms, their hearts beating franticly while they tried to catch their breaths. A cool breeze teased their heated flesh as Brock smoothly flipped their positions so she rested on the comfort of his hair dampened chest.
Reality tried to worm its way into her brain, but Emma refused to let it in. Right now, with her ear pressed against Brock’s pounding heart and her entire body lax and lazy with fulfilment, she never wanted to pull her head out of the sand.
The sex she’d remembered with Brock six years ago had been great, amazing and mind blowing, but nothing like what they’d just shared. The way he touched her, took her over, completed her had sent her soaring higher than she’d ever dreamt. Making love to Brock now felt more than magical, it felt right.
Brock roused himself enough to brush the tangle of hair away from her face. “Did I hurt you, Em?” The obvious concern in his voice weakened the already frail wall surrounding her heart.
She rubbed her nose against his chest. “No, of course not.” Why pretend? Once, he’d known her body better than any man alive and had been able to melt her with just one touch. Looked like he still held that power.
Before Emma could decide how she felt about it, Brock pulled out of her body with a wet, sucking sound. “Just let me get rid of this and grab another one.”
Gently, he lifted her away from his sweaty chest then removed the condom before reaching into the nightstand for a fresh package. Helpless, Emma said nothing as she lay naked beside him and watched with heated interest as his already recovering member received its latex protection.
Task completed, Brock pulled her unresisting body back into his arms as he rested against the thick wood headboard. “Emma, why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Here it came—everything she didn’t want him to know. Everything that shamed and embarrassed her brought out into the open. But denial was still her best-friend. “Tell you what?”
He gently shook her. “Tell me that you like more than vanilla sex, that you need a bite along with a kiss.”
Heat flared over her body as shame washed through her. What kind of woman wanted to be hurt by a man in bed? What did that make her besides a freak? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She squirmed against him in a desperate attempt at freedom, but Brock used his superior strength to sit her in the cradle of his naked thighs, her back pressed against his hard chest.
“Don’t,” he whispered softly. “Don’t be embarrassed about needing more, baby. There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you like a little pain with your pleasure.”
Hearing the truth out loud, in his beloved voice, broke her. Before she could stop them, tears were streaming down her face. “I don’t know what’s wrong me,” she wailed, turning her face into the safety of his neck.
“Shhh, baby, I’ve got you. Just let it all go.” Brock moved them until she sat sideways on his lap, his strong arms holding her tightly. He continued to murmur soothing nonsense while she drenched him with her tears.
Finally, the storm played itself out. Brock used part of the sheet to dry her face. “Better now?” he questioned, his beautiful blue eyes dark with worry.
Not knowing what to say, Emma nodded and hid her face in the familiar curve of his neck.
One big hand stroked up and down her naked back in a gesture meant to comfort instead of arouse. “Emma, I need you to listen too. Even if you walk out this door and never see me again, I want you to understand some things. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded slowly, unsure of what to expect.
He remained quiet for some time, gathering his thoughts Emma assumed, until he let out a long breath. “Emma, there’s nothing wrong with you. If you need that little extra bump during sex to send you over… Well, so what?”
“But, Brock, what kind of woman likes to be hurt during her most intimate time with a man?” She pulled back long enough to stare into those beguiling before laying her head against him again. “It’s weird and sick. Normal people do not need pain to get them off.”
“Oh baby, you’re not sick. You just like things a little different.” When she didn’t respond, he gently tugged her head from his body and pointed to his upper arms and shoulders. “Does that make me a freak or psychotic?”
Lines of red ran from his shoulders all the way to his elbows, some scratches deep enough to draw blood.
“I did that?” she whispered, horrified at her actions. “Brock, I’m so sorry. Let me get something to clean those up.”
Before she bolted off the bed, he grabbed her in his arms. “Emma, I’m not sorry. I love it that I can get you so turned on you go wild. And you know something—when I felt your nails sink into me, my cock exploded. That tiny taste of pain rang my bell harder and deeper than anything I’ve ever felt. Besides a little bit of pinching and biting are hardly considered weird anymore.” He sent her a small conspirator’s smile. “If that makes us freaks, so be it. We can be freaky together.”
Her gaze moved from his arms to his face, and the acceptance she saw there eased the knot around her heart. “You mean that?” As much as she wanted to believe him, societal taboos still held her back. “I mean, you enjoyed it when I scratched you?”
“Baby,” he said, tumbling her from his lap and down to the bed. “I fully intend to need first aid on every part of my body before we’re though.”
She laughed and, for the first time in her life, felt free to explore her own sexuality. Emma pressed kisses all over his smooth cheeks. “Thank you, Brock. That means everything to me.”
“Anything for you, Em, anything.”
As he looked down at her, something in his eyes changed. Her gut clenched with dread. She didn’t want to talk about reality. Didn’t want to face her life and the pain she’d kept buried for six years. For now, she lay wrapped in her lover’s embrace, free to tempt and tease him.
When his lips parted, she put one finger over them. “Not now, Brock. I don’t want to take my head
out of the sand just yet. Let’s just enjoy this while we can.”
By the stern look on his face, Emma could tell he wanted to argue with her. Instead, he heaved out a breath of defeat. “I could never learn to say no to you, Em.”
Before she could stop it, her brain flashed back six years before to a time when the only words Brock could tell her started with ‘no’. No, Emma, I can’t marry you. No, Emma, I won’t tell you why. No, Emma, you wouldn’t understand. And the one that sliced her soul in half—.No, Emma, don’t bother waiting for me.
Chapter Six
Brock knew his words had upset Emma, but she refused to talk to him. Unfortunately, his body went along with her plans eagerly. But, despite the world-exploding passion between them, he needed something else to break through the barriers his lover put up to keep him out.
On the third day in the cabin, while digging for socks in Tag’s drawers, he stumbled over what he hoped to be the perfect accessory in unlocking Emma’s heart.
He walked back to the bed and stood gazing down at the woman sleeping so innocently. He must look like a complete sap—his heart in his eyes and the scent of desperation wafting off him. But, aside from the short daily phone calls to Briley, they’d been locked in a world of their own where nothing mattered but sating their desire for each other, losing themselves to pleasure while re-learning the other’s body, and finding Emma’s limits to pain and pleasure.
They’d experimented and found that while light pain flipped her into overdrive every time, anything more than a light slap or firm pinch shut her down.
His back ached with proof of her sexual abandon, but he wouldn’t trade a single scratch or drop of blood for time spent with Emma. He felt branded by her marks and would wear them with pride and love for however long they lasted.
Their temporary Eden wouldn’t last much longer, no matter how much both of them wished the rest of the world to hell. Every time he opened his mouth to explain the past, Emma generally found an erotic way to distract him. Her last method… Shivers of pleasure raced over his balls at the memory of his beautiful Emma and a bottle of warm honey.
With the sheet lightly draped over her generous curves, Brock wondered how the hell he’d found the strength to walk away from her in the first place. If he had stayed by her side and faced his fears, he would have the right to wake up to her every morning and drag her into bed every night.
And kids, he thought as emotions welled up in his eyes. They would have had at least one or two kids by now. Little girls with their mother’s generous heart and beautiful smile.
“It could still happen.” Brock forced the words out of his stiff lips. “We can still have all that together.”
That future, those already beloved children, rested solely in the petite hands of the woman sleeping innocently before him. With too much at stake, Brock mentally threw down his last card. If this didn’t work… He stopped, unable to complete the thought.
Slowly, he eased his weight down on the bed, careful not to wake her until he had everything ready.
Emma woke to the now familiar feeling of Brock’s hands running down her naked flesh while his warm lips teased and nipped their way up her spine.
“Morning, baby,” he greeted before playfully biting her shoulder then soothing the wound with his talented tongue.
“Mmmmm, is it morning already?” Inside her head, a clock continued to tick, getting louder and louder as the minutes and hours passed. At first, it had been easy to ignore. Being with Brock, exploring their limits together, had been the centre of her world.
But something inside her knew she couldn’t keep the world at bay much longer. Sooner or later, Brock would tire of her tricks and games, then where would she be?
That time hadn’t come, at least not yet, she reminded herself as desire swept through her body with each skilful touch of her lover.
“The things you do to me,” she whispered, trying to turn and face him, but he held her in place.
“Just stay like that for me, please.”
As if she had the strength to tell him no? So Emma lay there on her stomach while Brock licked from her toes to her head.
“Baby, do you trust me?” he finally asked over her shoulder.
“Haven’t I trusted every suggestion you’ve made so far?” she teased, carefully skirting the question.
Silence hummed between them before Brock finally spoke. “You are so beautiful.”
The compliment completely threw her off.
“I’m glad you think so, but I know better.” And she did. Her stomach puffed out, her hips could only politely be described as birthing hips, and her ass fell in line with the rest of her body.
“No, you really don’t. I see you and think goddess. There’s no hardness to you. I can sink into you and feel you soft and giving beneath me. Surrounding me with your scent and heat. Nothing in this world feels better to me than lying in your arms or wrapping you tightly in mine.”
Startled by his declaration, Emma tried to joke her way out of the situation. “And beautiful, thin cover models turn you off?”
Brock met her mocking gaze straight on, eyes blazing. “I’m sure there’re men who would kill their own mothers for a night in one of their beds. But not me. I don’t want a woman I’m afraid I’ll break or who has more muscles than me. I want the woman I have in my arms—my sweet, soft, perfect Emma.”
“Oh God, Brock,” she cried and turned to face him fully. She captured his lips with her own, devouring their special flavour like the last piece of fudge on the planet. He couldn’t keep doing this to her. Saying these things, these perfect things with such honesty in his eyes. Didn’t he see how badly it would hurt her once he walked away again?
Tongue thrusting, duelling for dominance, Brock swept her hands down behind her back. “My turn to play a game,” he whispered, releasing her mouth.
“Okay.”Whatever he wanted so long as he didn’t stop kissing her.
Brock’s mouth dropped down to cover hers. Lost in the taste and feel of him, it took several seconds before she understood. She couldn’t move her hands. They were somehow locked securely behind her back.
She lifted her head, panting for breath, to stare at her lover. “Brock?”
Some emotion passed through his eyes, but was gone before she could catch it.
“It’s just a game, baby. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Uh, right,” she agreed while trying to twist her arms free. “But really, Brock, tying me up?”
Heat flared in gaze. “There’s nothing hotter than a woman tied up, hands and feet, open for the pleasure you can’t wait to give her.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Uh huh.”
“I’m asking you to give me this, baby. Give us this. Let me use these handcuffs of Tag’s in a whole new way.” He did something behind her back and suddenly her hands sprang free.
“You’d enjoy that?” She rubbed needlessly at her wrists. As Brock said, he’d never hurt her, even when it came to mock bondage games.
In answer, he took her freed hands and wrapped them around his throbbing erection. “What do you think?”
He was thick and hot in her grasp, and Emma wanted to sink down and take him in her mouth. To sip and lick every drop of pre-come off his shaft as he fucked her mouth in hard strokes.
Something of what she felt must have shone in her eyes because Brock pulled her hands back. “Oh no, Em. I know that look, and as much as I love having you suck me off, not this time. This time, I want to do it my way, please?”
What else could she say when a man offered to pleasure her senseless? “Yes, Brock.”
The smile that broke out across his face felt like sunshine in her soul. Something so simple as her trust could make this warrior happy. Right then, she’d have gladly given him anything he asked.
“Lay down, baby, and spread your legs,” he instructed and he moved off the bed and dug in one of the dark oak dresser drawers. He walked back to the bed,
two sets of police-type cuffs in one hand while the other held a handful of silk neckties.
Feeling shy in her nudity all of a sudden, Emma closed her eyes and let Brock move her body into whatever picture fit his fantasy. Less than five minutes later, her body spread and open, Brock tapped the tip of her nose.
“Open those gorgeous blue eyes for me, baby.”
She complied at once, hearing a deeper need in his voice than a simple command.
He smiled. “How can you get more beautiful every time I look at you? I swear sometimes, at night, I lay awake and watch you sleeping to see if I can pinpoint exactly how you get more beautiful, but as soon as I blink, it’s done.” The poor man looked honestly confused.
“Brock, my looks haven’t changed. It’s all in your head, silly man.”
“No,” He shook his head adamantly. “I swear it’s true. Maybe it will be easier if I inspect every inch of your body. I can find a trigger or switch or something.”
She laughed at his seriousness. “Brock, you’ve already gone over ever inch of my body. I don’t think I have a freckle you haven’t seen,” she protested.
He waggled his brows comically at her. “Yes, but this time, I can be more precise. I’ll use my tongue.”
And he did.
Brock started at the bottoms of her feet, his tongue leaving trails of needy desire wherever he went. By the time he reached the back of her knees, Emma was past begging.
“Please, Brock… I can’t take anymore,” she wheezed out. Her hands bound above her head to the bed, she had no control. She was left open and vulnerable to his every whim and desire.
“You can take more,” he promised, lowering his head to lick and suckle the tender skin before moving up her thigh with teasing kisses or stinging bites. “I’ll make sure you can take more.”
“No, please, I need you,” she whimpered, pulling uselessly at the cuffs binding her. True to his protective nature, Brock had wrapped the steel cuffs with cotton and silk to prevent chafing her sensitive skin.
Enticing Emma Page 4